Never Ignore a Madman
by KennFlores5
Summary: Never ignore a madman. John learns this in various ways. So many madmen and women in one crazy messed up world. How to cope with them all? Contains crossovers.
1. With a gun

**A/N: Hello all! This is a new story I've been working on. It's mostly Johnlock but there are some other couples throughout the story. Hopefully you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! It will get better, I promise.  
-Kennedy**

* * *

1) …with a gun

I sigh. Another day of chasing psychotic killers. It's odd how I've become so used to this. I follow Sherlock down the dark alley. It's always a dark alley. I breathe quietly and feel irritated that the cold weather leaves a white puff after each exhale. I almost bump into Sherlock as he stops behind a bin. I'm surprised at the heat radiating from his seemingly cold body. I hear the killer's feet clatter down the alleyway and I leap up, ready to follow Sherlock. He pulls me down quickly and I feel a bullet whiz near my head. My heart beats loudly and I gulp. I thank the bloody stars that it's dark, because if not, I'd most likely be dead. I hear the killer leave again and Sherlock jumps up and runs after him. I frown as I follow, not knowing how exactly he knew. The man runs through a few more back alleyways and I struggle to keep up with Sherlock's long legs. We climb up a ladder and jump to the roof besides us. The killer is on the ground, still running. Sherlock and I climb down just as the killer turns the corner. He slips towards us even more because of the wet ground. He pulls his gun up, facing Sherlock's chest and I feel my stomach clench. I jump in front of him and I hear a click. The killer ran out of bullets. The heart in my throat is still beating but I manage to sigh in relief at our luck. Sherlock runs toward the man and I yell as I see a flash of silver. Sherlock jumps to the side but it's a bit too late. His shirt is torn and there's some blood seeping through the navy blue fabric. I look up and find myself face to ugly face with the killer. He tackles me down and takes the gun from my grasp. I look into his eyes and I feel pain sear through my body. It hurts worse than the first time and I feel myself drifting. My blurry vision spots Sherlock elbow the man in the temple and I see the man's figure slump to the floor. Sherlock's blotchy figure moves to my side and I feel a weight in my hair. The heavenly sounds of an ambulance and police cars ring in my ears. Mycroft probably sent for the ambulance as soon as he saw Sherlock get cut. Thank goodness for his CCTV cameras. I smirk as much as I can through the pain. Sherlock's soothing hand is making me even drowsier and I see his mouth moving. I feel the ground rumbling and a gurney is placed next to me. My eyes start slipping closed and Sherlock's tight grip on my arm jerks me back to consciousness slightly. He's yelling and I see a nurse pat his shoulder. They place inside the ambulance and as Sherlock sits next to me, I fall asleep.

~o~o~

I wake up to bright lights and a hand squeezing my arm tightly. I look to my side and find Sherlock, watching my face intently. I hear him call for a nurse and I sigh gratefully that my hearing is fine.

"Are you feeling better?" Sherlock asks.

"I've been better." I mumble.

He sits back and lets his eyes flutter.

"Why haven't you slept? You need sleep." I scold and he scoffs.

The nurse comes in and asks me routine questions. She leaves when she's confident I'm fine and I turn to Sherlock again.

"How long have I been in here?"

"Two days." he answers and I huff in exasperation.

"So you haven't slept for five days."

"I'm fine, John!" he snaps and I wince as his hand constricts my arm more.

His eyes widen and he lets go. I lay back and he drops his head.

"Sleep, Sherlock. I'll be here in the morning." I smile at him.

He gives in and curls up like a cat on the plush couch he's on. Once again, Mycroft has given us an exquisite hospital room. Tiredness consumes me and I snuggle into the warm blankets. Sherlock's hand comes up and grabs my arm and I smile when I see he's not awake. Subconscious movement I realize as I drift to sleep.


	2. With a threat

2) or woman …with a threat

I sigh as my phone rings for the fifth time. Harry is horrendously drunk and she thinks calling me with her problems will help her. I turn the sound off and I feel it vibrate against my leg. I get up and make some tea. Seven in the morning is not the time to be calling someone. I hear shuffling upstairs and I hear the shower start. As the kettle shrieks, my phone vibrates once against my leg and I grit my teeth. I pour two cups of tea and after preparing them both, I set one on the coffee table for Sherlock. I sit in my seat and pull my phone out to find a text.

**Received at 07:14 from Harry  
Dnt ignor mee  
i hav pics of u  
im goin 2 sent thm to nsy  
hhahahahhaa**

I groan and rub my temples. I don't have any incriminating pictures and all the ones I did have are in the piles of ash in the fireplace.

"Your sister is being a nuisance again, I see."

I smirk and I nod, "Your tea is on the table. She says she has pictures of me and she's sending them to Scotland Yard."

Sherlock looks at my phone with a disgusted look and says, "Clara broke up with her again."

"Yeah, so now she's drinking down her sorrows. Apparently, calling me is the first thing on her 'When I'm drunk' list. Well then, what are we doing today?"

~o~o~

After I return from the store, I find Sherlock lying on the couch as always. He has four nicotine patches and I frown.

"I don't think that's very healthy, Sherlock. Why do you need four?"

"I need to clear my head so I can think."

"I know but four is a bit excessive."

Sherlock opens his mouth to retort but his phone chimes. He opens the text and I watch as his eyebrows furrow.

"Greg?"

"No. Lestrade. He says he needs us."

"What for? A case?"

"No but he says if I don't go, he'll give my cases to Anderson and Mycroft." Sherlock snarls and he makes a big deal of going upstairs and getting dressed. I roll my eyes as he harrumphs back, his arms crossed like a petulant child.

"This always happens. Mycroft takes everything from me. My cake, mummy, my dog, my room, and now my cases. At least he hasn't taken you." Sherlock murmurs. He smiles at me and I smile back. Exactly like a child, this 'man'!

~o~o~

As we pull up to NSY, I see a few reporters. Great. I turn to tell Sherlock to behave but find he's already heading towards the door. The reporters are watching me and I frown. I pay the cabbie and get out, following Sherlock. The reporters ask me questions and one or two snap photos. I excuse myself and jog after Sherlock. Some men and women wink at me and one even goes as far as to wolf-whistle at me. I flush and bite my lip in confusion. We head upstairs and as I wait for the elevator doors to open, I try to think back. Why are there reporters here for me? What did they ask you, Watson? Think! When were the photos taken? Are you really that big? Would you be willing to do a photo shoot? Has Sherlock seen it? Oh god. Harry. The photos! The doors open and I run to Greg's office. Sally smirks at me, "Oi, John. I didn't know you were packing."

I gulp and open the door.

"Where are they?"

"John, Sherlock. They're on my desk. Everyone here has seen them, though."

I slump into the chair in front of me and I smack my head.

"I didn't think she'd actually do it!"

"Who, John? Why do we have these?"

"Harry. I wasn't answering her calls because she was drunk and she threatened to release pictures. I didn't know she actually had any. I thought I'd destroyed them all."

I spot Sherlock sit in the chair next to me and I see him flip through a few pictures. I snatch them out of his hand and I blush at the photographs. Damn it. I go through them myself and I immediately regret ever agreeing to take the pictures.

"Hopefully, the press will forget. You might not want to show your face around here for a week or two, John." Greg says, embarrassedly.

I nod and Sherlock is looking out the window with a glazed look on his face. I roll my eyes, "Did you give any pictures to the press?"

"No. I checked everyone here and I confiscated any they had."

I nod at him and stand.

"Well, thanks again Greg. Come on, Sherlock."

Sherlock stands and follows. More catcalls and numbers are slipped my way and I pay no attention to them. Sherlock still isn't talking when we're in a cab on the way home and I tap his leg.

"You okay?" I ask.

He turns to face me, his cryptic eyes watching my every move. He opens his mouth and closes it again. I shrug and look out the window.

"Are you really that large?"

"Oh, god."


	3. When he tries to reveal his feelings

3) …when he tries to reveal his feelings

I lurch forward in my bed and look at the clock frantically. 07:56. I rub my eyes and rush to get ready. I run down the stairs with a toothbrush in my mouth and I brush my hair with my fingers. I spit in the sink, which is thankfully empty of brains and livers. I rinse my mouth quickly and I grab my shoes from next to the couch. Sherlock is standing in front of the window and watching the grey clouds loom past. He turns toward me and he has an unreadable look on his face. A light pink flush appears on the apples of his cheeks and I frown, standing up to place my hand on his head.

"Are you feeling sick?"

"No. John, I need to tell you something."

I grab my coat from the rack and slip my arms through the armholes.

"Yes?"

"Can you sit down? It's very important."

"I'm late for work, Sherlock. Tell me when I get back."

Sherlock frowns and he flops onto the couch, most likely to sulk. He pulls a box of nicotine patches from under the cushions and he slaps two on. I roll my eyes and I head to work.

"I'll bring some Chinese on the way home, okay?"

The last thing I hear is Sherlock grumble loudly.

~o~o~

After five patients with the flu, three patients with bronchitis and two hypochondriacs, I finally head home with a bag of food. I trudge up the stairs and fumble with my key. I'm surprised when I open the door. Tons of jumpers are littered on the floor and there are some on racks. I see a cat and a dog curled up in a jumper-free spot on the floor and I jump as I hear a parrot squawk, "Love you" next to my ear. I walk into the kitchen, careful not to step on the jumpers on the floor. My mouth drops. The kitchen is clean. No heads, no arms but many, many desserts. I place the bag of food on an empty chair and I call Sherlock's name.

"I'm here."

I jump as I hear Sherlock's voice tickle my ear.

I feel flustered at the touch of warm breath on the shell of my ear and I pull back a bit.

"Er…what's the meaning of all this? And when did we get three animals. You'd better not be experimenting on them."

The pink tinge he had in the morning appears on his cheeks and I realize Sherlock had actually been blushing!

"Do you like the jumpers? They're 100% wool. The animals are for you. I named them."

I sigh. Even when I get gifts from Sherlock, he has control over the matter.

"What are their names? And why are there so many desserts in here."

"The orange tabby cat is Vincent, the bulldog pup is Gladstone and the parrot is Friedrich."

"Ah. The desserts?"

Sherlock blushes and picks up the bag of food. He takes out a carton and sits in his chair, shoving the jumpers to the floor.

"Sherlock? Why did you get all this?"

He mumbles and gets a large portion of chicken which he thrusts into his mouth. I watch his perfect bow lips move up and down and I feel my eyes roam down his body.

"Sherlock. If you don't tell me, I'll throw away your mould experiment in your closet."

His eyes widen and the blush creeps down his cheeks. Sherlock places the food on the table and he stands. He strides over to me and pushes me back into my chair. His lips cover mine and I succumb to the marvelous feel of his lips against mine. He pulls back and watches me with an expression similar to a curious cat.

"Finally! Now, explain everything."

Sherlock pulls back even more and his eyebrows gather together.

"What do you mean finally?"

"I've been waiting for you to kiss me or touch me or something for the past month or two!"

His mouth opens in an adorably comical way and I take the opportunity to kiss him again. It's more languid and tender and Sherlock eagerly participates. He pulls back again and I huff.

"What now?"

"That's why you haven't been on a date in months."

"Well… yeah. Now you had better tell me or else."

He sighs deeply, "Fine. I wanted to tell you this morning that I have… affections toward you but you were hurrying so I planned how to tell you when you got back. Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft, Molly, Lestrade, they all crossed my mind on how to plan to tell you but I ended up asking my homeless network. One woman, Esther, told me when she was twenty, she was wooed when her boyfriend bought her a puppy so that's where I got the idea of buying the animals. Another woman, Janine, said she loved desserts. She said she thought desserts should do the trick so I bought all the decadent desserts I could in the time I had. She also said something else more sexual but I'll save your ears from hearing that. The last person I talked to was a man named Peter and he said all he'd want would be a couple of warm clothes, some jumpers preferably."

I grin and kiss the corner of his mouth.

"That's very sweet of you, Sherlock. I didn't know you were such a hidden romantic!"

He flushes a dusty pink and I nuzzle his neck.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes?"

"Does this make us boyfriends? Partners? A really close friends?"

Sherlock scowls at the last one and nips at my bottom lip, "I quite liked the first one."

I nod as much as I can with Sherlock's head under my chin, "Sherlock?"

"Yes?"

"We need to get rid of some of these jumpers and desserts though I am keeping some for myself."

"You're fine with the pets?"

"Yes. They're adorable."

"Good. I don't know where to take everything."

"Jumpers for your homeless network and desserts for NSY?"

"John?"

"Yes?"

"Can we send the desserts to Mycroft?"


	4. Who was promised

4)…who was promised

Sherlock's phone rings for what seems like the millionth time today and I slam my cup down a bit too forcefully. Vincent and Gladstone clamber away from my seat and they hide underneath the cushions. Friedrich clacks his beak angrily at me and I hand him a piece of bread. He swipes it from my hand and I turn to Sherlock.

"Why is Mycroft calling you?"

"Remember the family gathering I was telling you about?"

"Yes. The one we're going to?"

"Well, we're not anymore."

"What? Why? Sherlock-"

"Save your scolding for another time. You would thank me if you knew what I was saving you from! My mother is quite a romantic, as you called me before. She'll be pestering you about marriage plans and grandchildren. She's horrid when-"

Sherlock's phone rings again and he makes a face. He shoves it under his seat and continues talking.

"Sherlock, I don't care if you're mum is horrid when it comes to your relationships. That's what mums are for. I want to meet your mum."

Sherlock scowls and runs up the stairs to sulk in our room. I hear him yell 'no' down the stairs and I roll my eyes. Vincent looks meekly up at me and I pull him onto my lap.

"Don't worry, Van Gogh. Pap's having a temper tantrum. He'll be fine in a bit."

The cat mews and I tickle the fur behind his ear. He stands and jumps off of the couch to find Gladstone. The two have become inseparable since Sherlock got them. Quite a sight when you see the two snuggled up on Sherlock's bed. I get up and pull on my coat. It's been raining for four days straight and there were no signs of it letting up.

"Sherlock! I'm going out to buy groceries! Need anything?!"

He doesn't answer and I shrug.

"Van Gogh, Stonebury, take care of pap while I'm gone. And Friedrich," the grey parrot cocks his head at his name, "try to learn some new words. I know Sherlock loves me."

"Love you." he replies.

~o~o~

As I step out of the cab, groceries in hand, a black car sidles up next to me. I exhale slowly and I unlock the door.

"Let me put the groceries inside first, at least."

"Oh, take your time, Mr. Watson."

"You can call me John, Mycroft."

I head upstairs and put the groceries away quickly. I see Sherlock sleeping on the sofa with Vincent on his chest and Gladstone on his feet. I head quietly downstairs and I slip into the car.

"So, I see you and Sherlock are in a relationship."

"Yeah. Yeah, we are."

"Do you know why I've taken you this time?"

"Dunno. You want advice on how to ask Greg out?" I snort.

Mycroft's ear tips grow pink and he stiffens, "What Gregory and I do is none of your business. No, I'm going to keep you as an incentive for Sherlock to agree to coming to mummy's. I've brought you a change of clothes for a week."

I gape and sputter, "You can't do that! Besides, how do you know he'll come to wherever you're taking me?"

"He has very strong feelings for you so of course he's coming. I'm taking you to mummy's house."

I bite my lip and flump further into my seat.

"Great. Did you at least bring my presents?"

"Yes, I have."

"Good. And have you arranged for someone to take care of my pets?"

"Of course."

"Have you asked Greg out yet?"

"Again with that absurd question! I do not have feelings toward Gregory."

"Sources say you do, Mycroft. It's fine if you do. I happen to know he has a bloody large crush on you."

Mycroft's ears turn pink again and he doesn't protest when I give him tips on how to pursue Greg.

"So, you got everything down?"

"I believe so. He likes dogs, preferably German Sheppard. He loves the water. He wears casual clothes, this I knew. He likes action movies and loves his son, James whom he sees every other weekend and a full week during his holidays. He is bisexual and hasn't been on a date in a year. He loves Italian food and hopes to vacation in America, just to see 'what all the hype is about'. Is that all?"

I nod and almost fall when the car jerks to a stop.

I gulp nervously and Mycroft gives a grimace which I think is meant to be consoling.

Mycroft's phone rings furiously and he answers it with an air of indifference.

"Ah, brother dear. I see you've found out your dear doctor is missing."

I hear Sherlock shout and Mycroft pulls the phone away from his ear.

"This is what happens when you break promises, brother. Now you have to come see mummy."

I see Mycroft straighten and his ears turn pink.

"You're bringing Gregory? Why?"

I roll my eyes and sigh.

"Fine. I'll see you in a few minutes." Mycroft says in a clipped tone.

"Sherlock's nearby?" I ask, happy I won't have to face Mummy Holmes on my own with Sherlock's slightly creepy brother. Imagine if she thought we were together?!

"Yes. And he seems to be bringing Gregory along."

"Ah, you'll be fine Mycroft. You might want to leave as soon as everyone settles down."

"Why would I have to do that?"

"Well, you need to buy Greg a present! Who knows? He might have one for you in return!"

"What could Gregory give me that I don't already have or need?"

"Maybe a date?"


	5. Who knows magic

5)…who knows magic

I lean back in my seat and wait for Ron to finish talking. He smiles at Harry and Clara and I smile at the sight. Sherlock tugs at my sleeve and I turn to him.

"The redhead standing used to have a crush on Clara when he was younger. That's his wife, the woman with the black hair over there. She's pregnant with their fourth child, judging by the children running around."

"Actually, two of them are his. And how did you know Pansy was pregnant?"

I turn to find Hermione smiling down at us. I stand and hug her petite frame.

"Sherlock, meet Hermione. She was friends with Harry and my cousin on my dad's side was friends with her as well. My cousin, Neville, helped her fight against some horrible people."

Hermione smiles and takes a seat next to us, "You can tell him. I mean, Clara knows so might as well tell your boyfriend. So, Sherlock, how did you know about Pansy?"

Sherlock tilts his head to the side and opens his mouth to answer.

"Sherlock, you'd better not say anything bad. I'm not responsible for anything she does if you make her mad." I say, wary of his words.

Sherlock rolls his eyes at me and continues, "Well, the way she waddles slightly instead of walking is one indicator. She also turns down any champagne glasses anyone offers her. She rubs her stomach subconsciously and she avoids the spicy food which Clara and Harry love. Who do the other two boys belong to?"

Hermione is gaping at Sherlock and I grin.

"That was cool! Um, the other two are my friend's kids. He's out on a mission and he needed me to take care of them."

"I should have noticed the different eye colours!" Sherlock berates himself and I rub his arm.

"You were brilliant, Sherlock. This isn't a case. You don't need to get everything right."

He huffs and lays his head on my shoulder.

"Can I deduce more people? I'm bored."

"You deduce people? Can you do me?"

I shake my head, "Not a good idea, 'Mione. He'll either offend you or surprise you, though it's usually the former."

Sherlock kisses my cheek and turns toward Hermione.

"You've recently had a child. This is your first time out in a few months judging by how you chat lengthily with the people you come across, most likely to catch up on what you've missed. You had relations with the redhead who was standing but it didn't work out because he broke up with you. You look at him and sigh sadly but you don't want him anymore. It's just the memories you have. You've been happily married for five years but you're mad at your husband right now. He's not here so he's most likely taking care of the baby as punishment for what he's done recently. You work at a bookstore or a library. The scent of old books is imprinted in your skin and you have book ink on the tips of your fingers."

Sherlock grabs the wine glass on the table and takes a sip. Hermione grins in disbelief and claps her hands together.

"You're amazing! Though I broke up with Ron. I work in my own bookstore, Pipette's and my husband is in deep trouble."

Sherlock smirks and I ask Hermione what happened.

"Well, my husband, decided that since I hadn't been paying attention to him, he would go and wreak havoc in America."

"How does one go on to bring chaos to a whole country."

"Er, Sherlock. Remember how I told you 'Mione and Nev fought against some people. Well, they fought in a war."

"Oh, which one?"

"Not one in the newspapers, that's for sure. You see, Hermione is a witch."

"That's rude!" Sherlock sniggers.

"Seriously, Sherlock. Witches and wizards are real. Hermione, Neville, Ron, Pansy. All wizards."

He frowns in disbelief, "Very funny, John."

"I'm serious. Let's talk somewhere more private. We can't have others overhearing."

~o~o~

After explaining to Sherlock about the wizarding world, he smiles and asks Hermione to cast some spells. I laugh at Sherlock's childlike behavior.

"You're taking this pretty well."

"Once you've ruled out the impossible, whatever remains- however improbable- must be true. Surely, I've told you that, John. Now are you going to explain why your husband is in trouble or not?"

Hermione grins, "You act just like him sometimes. Well, like I said he was mad I was ignoring him. I wasn't doing it on purpose, mind you. It's just that caring for a baby and running a business and trying to come up with a speech for Harry at the Great War Ball, which you're invited to, by the way, adds up and I was tired and he was acting like a child. I told him to leave me alone to finish my work and to find something fun to do. I regret saying that now! He decides that America is 'too bipolar', in his own words, so he casts blizzards in the hot states and heat waves in the cold states. It wasn't bad enough to cause damage but it might as well have. The poor people were out of their wits, thinking the end was near or some rubbish like that."

At this, Sherlock chuckles and I slap his arm, chuckling too. Hermione rolls her eyes playfully and continues her story, "I find out through the Ministry sending me a letter saying that they can't do anything since he's the Minister for Magic himself! I return home, stressed enough as it is and I release hell on him. He's in major trouble now. He's apologized to the President personally and now he has to do what I say for the next few months. Dear gods, that man will be the death of me yet."

We all crack up and I sigh happily.

"It seems like you two have that relationship as well." Hermione comments.

I blush and duck my head, "What makes you say that?"

"You follow Sherlock wherever he goes and you don't seem to mind him directing you but when you need to, you'll pull at the leash you so clearly have on him and he knows to back down. It's the same with me and Draco. I let him do whatever he wants but if he crosses the line, goes a bit too far, I yank the chain and he comes loyally."

Sherlock huff in indignation but the blush in his cheeks gives him away. I kiss his forehead and he relaxes.

"I need to go home now. It's a bit late and Draco and I are working on a potion."

Sherlock perks up at the word and I face-palm.

"Can you show me some potions?"

"Muggles can't do the potions we have. You need odd and magical object to make most of them."

"Can you give me a book or two? Here's my number. You can show me some potions and lend me some ingredients and I can owe you a case or two."

She shrugs, "I don't see why not? My husband is the Minister so he can take some charges off of me. Besides, everyone adores their Gryffindor Golden Girl!"

I sigh in despair. Thanks a lot, Hermione.


	6. With a passion for superheroes

6)…with a passion for superheroes

"Hey, Molly!" I greet.

Molly turns to me and she gives me a timid smile, "Oh, hello John!"

"Who's this?"

"Oh, this is my boyfriend Thomas. Thomas O'Diern."

The man dressed as Deadpool turns to look at me. He pulls his mask off and grins at me.

"Hello! Nice to meet you. Friend of Molly's?" he says in a quirky Scottish accent.

"Er, yeah. Say, you remind me of someone."

He grins, "Yeah, people say that a lot."

He musses his brown hair, which seems to be defying gravity. He looks like a peacock or some type of bird the way he cocks his head and stares at Molly with his almost too big eyes. She smiles at him and kisses his cheek.

"So, are you and Sherlock on a case here?"

"Yeah, apparently there's a murderer here at Comic Con who dresses like a vampire."

"Oh, y'know, I think I saw some weird bloke wandering around over there. He seemed pale enough!" Thomas grins and he puts some black glasses on. He almost looks scholarly, like a professor, "Here he comes now!"

I turn to find Sherlock, whisking his way toward us.

"He's not here yet." he says, giving a once over of Thomas and Molly, "Hello, Molly."

"Oh. Hi, Sherlock. This is my boyfriend, Thomas."

Thomas waves and places his mask back on, handing Molly his glasses. Molly takes them and places them in her purse.

"So, Sherlock, John, what else do you have? Any clues?"

"Not really. Though we do know he takes some blood from the people."

"Have you gone and seen the bodies?" she asks, interest showing on her face.

"Molls, will you come with me? There's a really cool booth over there-"

"Not right now, Tom. I need to help these two."

Thomas gives a slight pout and raises an eyebrow, watching the three of us with faked enthusiasm. He fiddles around with one of his swords with his tongue sticking out and I chuckle. I turn to listen to Molly and Sherlock talk about the possibilities of why the blood was taken. Around thirty minutes, I turn to ask Thomas if he wants to get something to eat when I find he's gone.

"Um, Molly? Your boyfriend's gone."

She looks at me and her mouth opens. She looks around and huffs.

"Oh no. He keeps on doing that! He's an absolute Marvel fanatic. He's usually quite normal. You've just caught him on an off day."

I chuckle and offer to help her look for him. She agrees and I send Sherlock to look for the murderer.

"Call me if you find him. Do not, I repeat, do not go after him alone."

Sherlock rolls his eyes and grudgingly accepts. I follow Molly in through the massive crowds and as my eyes roam around, I find a Deadpool costume.

"I think that's him, Molly!" I exclaim and she shakes her head as soon as she sees the man.

"No. His costume is almost like the real thing, he copied every stitch to a tee."

"Wow, super-fan is he?"

"Yes. You have no idea."

I look around a bit and I find another Deadpool.

"That one?"

She looks and sighs in relief, "Yeah. Let's go get him."

We push our way to him and he's buying another sword.

"Tom! We've been looking everywhere for you!"

His shoulders sag down and he ducks his head, "Sorry Molls. It's just that I didn't want to bother you. Look! This guy says this is Deadpool's real sword!"

Molly smiles at him and as she opens her mouth to say something, a man dressed as Spider-man steps up to Thomas and kisses him. Mask-on-mask. The man pulls his mask off and smiles at Tom.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you, Wade!"

Molly sputters and I watch Tom pull the man's hand off.

"Hey, what's wrong? It's me! Peter!"

Peter's hair seems to be as gravity defying as Tom's hair, though the boy, it seems, is tan and frowning.

"I don't know who you are or who you think I am, but I am not Wade!"

Tom pulls his mask off and his face is droll. His mouth is dropped wide and his eyebrows are making very serious wave lines on his face. Peter pulls back in shock.

"Whoa, sorry man. You just really looked like-"

A fist appears out of nowhere and lands soundly on Tom's jaw. He reels backwards and I whip around to see a Deadpool. His costume is almost exact to Thomas' though this one seems to be able to form faces. This Deadpool looks livid and Peter's eyes widen.

"Oh no. Wade! Calm down. It thought this guy was you. I mean, the costume is almost the exact same!"

Wade growls and walks over to Peter. He pulls him close and Tom is gaping at the two.

"Calm down there, big boy! What's the problem?"

I can't believe my eyes. Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. I salute Steve and he salutes back.

"Captain, sir, well Peter here thought my friend Tom was Wade and he kissed him. Wade came out of nowhere and punched Tom."

Tony lowers his sunglasses and looks at Wade with a smirk.

"Possessive much?" he turns toward Tom and smiles, "Nice costume. It's almost an exact replica!"

Tom's mouth opens even more and he falls back, "You..you're…you!"

He points between the four men and promptly faints. Molly crouches to his side and tries to wake him. I go over his head once and frown.

"He could have had a concussion. I think he's fine now, though. Quite a punch you threw there, Mr. Wade."

The man behind the mask smirks and Peter smacks his arm. Tony chuckles and throws some water of his water bottle on Tom. Tom stirs and immediately scoots back at the sight in front of him.

"Are you guys really them?"

Tony nods and shrugs, "Yeah, I'm Iron Man. This here's the Cap and over there is Spider-man and his little boyfriend, Deadpool."

Steve sticks his hand out and he pulls Tom up.

"Sorry for these three. I usually keep them on a leash when Bruce isn't around but they got out of my eyesight."

Tom opens and closes his mouth, seemingly out of words.

"Would you guys like to go get something to eat? Tony's treat."

Tony turns and pouts at the man next to him, "Why my treat? I didn't punch the kid! Wade should have to pay!"

Steve gives a glare to Tony to which he scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"Fine. Come on, you three."

I try to make sense of what's going on around me but I can't seem to wrap my head around it. Tony Stark, millionaire extraordinaire, offering to take us out for lunch. Superheroes wanting to go out with random people they've just met. And Captain America, the country's super soldier in front of my very eyes.

"Hey, Captain. Let's get a move on."

I shake my head to clear my brain and smile.

"I can't. I have to help my friend solve a case. Nice to meet you four, though. I can't believe I've met actual superheroes."

Tony grins and walks away, the rest following. Steve stays behind and shakes my hand.

"Nice to meet you, too. Say, where did you serve?"

"Afghanistan. I was a captain."

"Okay. Well, my name's Steve Rogers."

"Oh, I know. I grew up with you as my role model. My grand-dad served in the war around your time."

Steve nods slowly and smiles painfully at me. Most likely because of the repressed memories.

"Well, pleasure to meet you, Captain."

"Please. Call me John. John Watson."

Steve smiles and leaves when Tony calls his name. I call Sherlock and find out he's found the murderer. I run to find him and by the time I do see him, he's sitting on the man, grinning at me. I frown at him and he grimaces.

"Bit not good?"

"Bit not good. I told you to wait."

"Yes, but-"

"No buts. I told you to wait."

"Is your butt allowed?"


	7. With a box

7) …with a box

"Oi, Johnson, scoot over, will you?"

I move down the bench and my cousin sits next to me. She brushes her red hair behind her ear and smiles at me.

"Hey, Amy. How've you been doing?"

"I'm alright. A bit tired. Rory and I have tried for another child. It's taking ages!"

I crack a smile and pat her shoulder, "Well, I'm sure you'll have one eventually. If not, you two can adopt."

She sighs, "Yeah, I guess. It's just that Rory really wants a child ever since Melody died."

"I still can't believe it. I do hope for the best for you."

She smiles and lays her head on the table in front of her.

"This family reunion's boring."

"I know."

"So, who's the posh boy toy you've been walking around with?"

I blush and I'm about to answer when her phone rings.

"What do you need now?" she huffs as she answers.

I watch as Sherlock is pulled around by my aunts who are forcing him to eat. He has a pained expression on his face and he glowers over at me. I smirk and shrug my shoulders.

"No. I told you last time that I would not. Leave me alone. I'm a bit busy at the moment!"

Amy hangs up and shoves her phone in her purse.

"Who was that?"

"The doc- My friend."

"The doc-my-friend?"

"My friend who happens to be a doctor. Problem?"

"No. No problem. Does he happen to be the same doctor you and Rory went on trips with?"

"Yeah. Him."

I nod and cross my arms, "What did he want?"

"He's been buggin' me to come back for a trip. I don't want to but Rory does."

"Ah. So now he's calling."

"Yep."

"Do you want my 'boy toy' to do something about it? His brother is powerful."

She laughs and shakes her head, "No. He's too sneaky for that. So, are you going to tell me about Sherlock?"

I sigh, "Well, he's my boyfriend. He's a sociopath though I'm an exception, I guess. He-"

A warbling sound comes from the sky and a large box crashes into the forest to the left of us. A few uncles look up but other than that, only Amy and I seem to have noticed. She groans and runs into the forest. I follow after her and find an old police box which happens to be smoking. The doors open and a man pops out. He's coughing and dust is splotched on his face.

"Hullo, Amy."

"What did you do this time?" she blusters.

"Well, I seem to have offended King Henry VIII and he slashed me!" he says.

He turns his side to face us and I see blood dripping from his hands.

"Oh my god!" Amy gasps.

She rushes over and takes the man's jacket off. She presses the jacket to the wound and turns to me.

"Johnson, go get something to clean this off."

I nod, "I have a first-aid kit."

"Why do you have a first-aid kit with you?"

"Sherlock."

I jog over to Sherlock who is sitting at the bench, looking grateful to be away from my aunts.

"Sherlock, do you have my bag?"

"Yes. It's under the bench. Why do you need it?"

"There's an injured man in the forest. Amy's with him. He was in a police box!"

At this, Sherlock sits up.

"Police box?"

"Yeah. He's hurt pretty-"

Sherlock runs off to the forest and I roll my eyes. I grab the first-aid kit and run after him.

I return to find Sherlock and the man in a deep conversation. Amy is looking down at them in wonder.

"How does your boyfriend know my friend?" she questions me.

I shrug and scoot Sherlock to the non-bleeding side of the man.

I pull his shirt up and wipe his skin with a cleansing pad. The cut is at least two centimetres deep and six centimetres long. I take my stitching utensils out and stitch the cut up. He thanks me and I hand him a bottle of pills.

"In case of infection. Now did you say King Henry?"

He grins, "Yeah. Nasty man, he is!"

"Sherlock, how do you know this man?"

"This is the doctor. He owns this box, which travels through time and space."

"Ha. Very funny. You three pulling my leg?"

"No, John. Don't you remember me?"

I shake my head and move my weight to one leg.

"I saved your sister from drowning when you were vacationing in Spain."

The fuzzy memory comes back and I narrow my eyes.

"How did you know that? And how are you the same age?"

"I just told you, John. He's a time traveller." Sherlock states.

The three look at me with earnest expressions on their faces and I cock my head.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, Johnson. He's the friend who's being insufferable and calling me. Rory and I have been travelling with him." Amy admits and I inhale shakily.

"So. Superheroes are real, I get that. Wizards and witches are real, okay. But time travellers? Wow. What's next? Monsters? Demons?"

The doctor and Amy smile at me. Sherlock takes my hand and grabs the kit.

"Well, have fun traveling doc. Hope to see you soon. Maybe you can explain everything more clearly next time."

He nods and gives his child-like grin. Amy turns and talks to him, almost like she's scolding him. When we reach the bench, I call Rory over and tell him Amy and The Doctor are in the forest. He shrugs and thanks me before heading off to find the two.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes?"

"How did you know the doctor?"

"My brother has connections with everyone. The doctor came to him when he needed help and I befriended him. He's changed his form twice since I last saw him."

"Hmmm. Sherlock?"

"Yes, John?"

"Are there anymore odd things or people you know about that you need to tell me?"

"I don't believe so. Now John, if you value your life, you'll hide me from your dreadful aunt Josephine. She's been trying to grope my arse since we've been here!"


	8. Who is bored Part 1

8) …who is bored (Part 1)

"Why are we doing this again?" Sherlock moans for the sixth time.

"I thought you hated repeating yourself." I snipe.

He glares at me and I sigh.

"Mycroft needed a favor and you owe him two. He's coming as well, you know."

"I know. But why is he coming if we're already going?"

"Mycroft is taking Greg on vacation for their anniversary. You know all of this Sherlock. Besides, I know the guys we'll be looking over. Well, I say we when I know it'll probably end up being me taking care of the lot of you."

Sherlock smirks and lies back in his first class seat.

The flight takes one more hour before it lands on American soil. I take our bags and Sherlock follows. We enter the terminal and I find Mycroft and Greg with our bags mingled with theirs. Greg flashes a smile at me and I wave. I pull our bags away and hand Sherlock the biggest one.

"Oh, do lighten up brother. You'll love New York. It's larger and more interesting than London. Many murders and cases for you to go on while you're here. I've pulled a few strings with the NYPD and they agreed to let you help if you don't insult their team. John, your pets should be coming around the back. I've asked Nicholas and he says Anthony will allow animals as long as they don't dirty the building."

I nod in thanks and we all head to the exit. A car is waiting outside and we clamber into it. The drive into Midtown Manhattan is awkward and crowded. Cars are honking, people are rushing in crowds, cabbies are cursing and the worst of it all is that we're on the wrong side of the road. We eventually pull up to a large building and I grin at how eccentric it is. The door opens and Tony greets us.

"Hey! I remember you! Steve said your name was John, right?"

"Yeah. This is Sherlock."

"Oh, your boyfriend, eh?" he waggles his eyebrows and a large, dark man elbows him in his side. The man smiles at Mycroft and Mycroft gives him a friendly smile back. I wince at the weirdness of seeing Mycroft in a good mood. The two shake hands and Mycroft introduces him.

"John, Sherlock, this is Nicholas Fury."

Nicholas drops the smile and sticks his hand out.

"You can call me Fury. The rest of the children do."

"We're not children, Nicholas." Tony sniggers.

Fury turns and gives a cold glare Mycroft's sure to be proud of.

"Ah. You must be Anthony Stark. I've read about you."

Tony narrows his eyes at Mycroft's use of his full name.

"Well, Nicholas, I'll be off. Greg and I will be traveling cross-country and we should be in California in ten or so days. Call me if you need anything."

Fury nods and Mycroft returns to the car. I wave in goodbye at Greg and Mycroft and I turn to Sherlock, who's been too quiet during this whole exchange. I look at him and he's nodding off.

"Sherlock?"

He startles awake, "What?"

I chuckle, "You can't go to sleep now. We need to adjust to the time zone here."

He pouts at me and we head inside.

"Well boys, this is Stark Towers! The rooms are in the South Building. Your room is on the 32 floor, last bedroom. You have two floors to yourselves. Your pets are up there too. You should head on down after putting your stuff away. Everyone is in the living room which is the floor above us. Birdbrain's the only one missing. He's napping in his nest. See you three later." Tony smirks and heads upstairs.

I hobble Sherlock over to the elevator and Fury follows. I press the button marked 32 and he presses the one marked B.

"You two do know why you're here right?"

I nod, "Mycroft said you need us here while you and some other members go recruit more people."

Fury nods, "Mycroft also wanted someone to take care of his brother while he was in America."

I smirk and when the doors open, I walk Sherlock down the hallway. I open the door to our room and my eyes widen at the sight. Even Sherlock looks a bit impressed. There are ceiling-to-floor windows bordered with black wood and two living rooms. I head up the spiral staircase and spot a room full of wine. I hear a crash and turn to find Sherlock soaked in wine and glass on the floor.

"What'd you do?"

"I nodded off while holding the bottle." he growls, mad at himself.

"That's what you get for not sleeping for four days. Tonight, you'd better sleep."

Sherlock rolls his eyes but doesn't complain.


	9. Who is bored Part 2

(Part 2)

After two and a half months of being with the Avengers, we'd gotten really close. Bruce, Steve and I were the main caretakers and when Jane Foster, Thor's now fiancée, came we added a new member. The guys and I grew into a habit of complaining about people to each other, namely Sherlock and Tony. Steve and Bruce would come to me and complain about Tony while I complained to them about Sherlock. So it came to me as no surprise when Bruce came into the library, where I was reading Hitchhiker's Guide, to rage about Tony.

"…and then he acts as if we're his slaves! He acts like we should do whatever he says just because we're the only ones who take his crap! We're not his maids! So he turns to Steve and asks him to get him a beer. He knows JARVIS can give him one in a snap but instead he asks Steve. And Steve, being the love-sick man he is, goes down fifty floors to bring him one. Well, he took the elevator but still. I had an inkling that he liked Tony but that's just stupid. After Steve left, Tony tried to tell me something but I just left. I found Steve and told him that Tony was taking advantage of him and you know what he does? He kicks me! He kicks me in my leg and tells me to leave Tony alone, that he's like a child and works hard! Really? Tony? The most work he does now is lounging around, trying to learn the chords for 'Welcome to the Jungle'!"

Bruce huffs and flops down into the chair next to mine.

I put my book down and look at him.

"You remind me of Sherlock and I." I start and Bruce looks up at me wearily.

"How?"

"Well, Sherlock tells me to do something and I usually do it. We're equals even though he usually takes advantage of my help. But if I pull on the reigns, he'll calm down and listen to what I have to say. We complement each other nicely. Now, I know you like Tony and this was brought on by you feeling jealous," Bruce sputters and blushes, "but you should know Steve doesn't like Tony. He likes Darcy. Something about her reminding him of someone from his past. Just give Tony a chance to tell you. The only relationship I know of him having was with Pepper and look how that turned out!"

Bruce nods in comprehension and I smile.

"Now, I need to go gift shopping for my friends back home. You want to come with me? I still don't know my way around and you've been here longer. I'm sure Steve and Jane can handle everyone."

"Yeah okay." he grins and we head downstairs. Once in the lobby, I ask JARVIS to tell everyone that we're going to the store and he does so. The announcement echoes and Bruce and I leave. Hopefully two people were enough to take care of the others.

~o~o~

Tony's Point of View

I towel myself off quickly and dress myself in a grey shirt and black jeans. Damn John taking Bruce. What am I supposed to do now? I head to the lab and find Mr. Genius and Jane. I sigh and head to the gym where I know Steve is. I enter to find Darcy flirting with the Cap and touching his muscles. I make a face and go up the elevator to Birdbrain and the redheaded demon's floor. As the doors open, I hear moans and grunts and I quickly push the button to go downstairs. Was everyone in this building horny?! I pull out my phone and call Spidey.

"Hey, Spidster. Are you busy?"

"Yeah, kind of. Didn't Fury tell you Wade and I were in Washington?"

"Oh yeah, getting your boyfriend a face, I remember. Well, bye."

God, was everyone busy? Thor was in Asgard trying to make his brother turn good or some crap like that. I mean to slam my head against the closed doors but they open and I fall flat on my face. I get up and grumble to myself. I'm bored and feeling ignored. Ha. That rhymes. I should call up AC/DC. Tour with them….. No. Back to the matter at hand. How to cure the boring atmosphere….?


	10. Who is bored Part 3

(Part 3)

As Bruce and I finish paying, my phone rings. I head outside and put it on speakerphone.

"Hey Jane." I greet.

"Oh god. John! You need to come home right now! Tony was bored and bought tons of beer. Steve tried to stop him but he ended up getting drunk too! Now everyone's drunk and Tony put Led Zeppelin LIVE on one TV and he has Guitar Hero on the other. Oh and everyone drank something funny because they're all telling the truth. It's not because they're drunk, no. They're answering any questions truthfully and Sherlock is questioning everyone. Steve is pigging out on pizza and did I forget to mention, Tony bought fifteen pizzas?! So I tried calling Pepper because she usually is good with Tony but when I gave the phone to him he said, and I quote, "I don't listen to you. You're evil and an ugly head. I only listen to my Brucey. He understands. Bye bye." Then he pulled out his phone and called Thor. I tried to take the phone away but he just pushed me onto the couch. He asked Thor to bring some Asgardian beer and ten minutes later, Thor comes in with a huge gallon of beer! The stuff is really strong and everyone is really, really drunk and now your dog is eating pizza! No! Bad doggy! No Thor! Put the dog down! Tasha, get down from there! Clint, let go of my legs! No, you're not a bird! Tony's just being mean. No, get off of the terrace right now, Clint! Steve, Darcy get a room! Please come home, you guys! NOW!"

Jane hangs up and Bruce and I look at each other in shock. We rush to flag down a taxi and when we do, I tell the driver to go as quickly as he can. We arrive in fifteen minutes and I pay him a nice amount. He nods in thanks and Bruce and I jog to the door. We enter and head upstairs. I hear 'Highway to Hell' playing and a loud thump. We go through the entryway and I look on in shock. There's a couch flipped over with Steve and Darcy making out under it. Thor is tickling Jane and she's giggling wildly. Sherlock is questioning Clint, who's saying something about Budapest. Natasha is hanging from a beam running in the middle of the ceiling and trying to reach for a slice of pizza. Gladstone is running around the perpetrator of the chaos who's playing Guitar Hero. Bruce clears his throat and Tony drops the plastic guitar. He runs over to Bruce and he drops to his knees. He wraps his arms around Bruce's waist and leans his head on the man's stomach.

"Brucey! I thought you left forever!"

Bruce looks down at him in shock and stutters, "Wh- why'd you think that?"

"You left when I asked Steve to get me a beer! And I was trying to ask you to a charity party thing but you left! And then you and Johnny left to the store and I was alone and none of my friends wanted to talk to me! They were all busy."

Tony nuzzles his face into the purple fabric and Bruce flushes. He pushes Tony's head back and looks into the man's glazed brown eyes.

"You were going to ask me out on a date?"

Tony chuckles drunkenly, "No! Our date's going to be waaaaaay bigger and cooler. I was just asking if you'd be my date to the party. There's a difference."

Bruce smiles but his eyes look sadly down at the drunken man.

"You're not going to remember this when you wake up tomorrow. So I'll say yes."

Tony's face becomes serious and he looks up at Bruce, "I will remember! I asked JARVIS to record the whoooooole thing so everyone will watch it with me tomorrow and I won't be alone."

I hear Jane 'aww' drunkenly and I turn to face her.

"How'd you get so drunk in under fifteen minutes?"

She giggles, "That 'sgardian shtuff is stro-ong!"

I call Sherlock over and he looks guiltily at me.

"Why?"

"I wanted to experiment. Besides, it's not going to hurt them! They're all very happy, as you can see."

I look reproachfully at him and he kisses me.

"I promise not to experiment on them anymore."

I sigh and hug him.

"Help me get everyone to their rooms."

He nods, albeit grudgingly and he pulls Steve and Darcy apart.

I turn to Bruce who's looking down at Tony's head in astonishment and I nudge him.

"Will you get him to his bedroom?"

"I want him in my bedroom, yessss!" Tony slurs sleepily and Bruce blushes.

This was going to be a long night.

~o~o~

We all piled in to the newly refurbished living room. The blinds are pulled closed and everyone's sitting down. I sit next to Sherlock and he lays his arm around my shoulders. I smile in surprise. I watch as Bruce walks in and contemplates sitting next to Tony. Tony looks up and grins happily at him. Bruce smiles and sits next to him, keeping as much space between them as possible on the full couch.

"Play the video, JARV!"

The robot starts the video and I look on in half horror, half humor. I watch as Darcy pushes Steve against the wall and kisses him while Thor and Tony have a drink off. Clint beats on the drums for Guitar Hero while Steve eats pizza and Darcy reapplies her lipstick. I see Jane calling us and as Thor lifts Gladstone in one hand. Clint has tears in his eyes and leans over the edge of the terrace. Natasha leaps and grabs onto the beam and lays herself down on it. I see Thor persuade Jane to drink and she gets tipsy after her second glass of the strong beer. Sherlock is questioning Tony now and I hear what sounds like, "I'm not gay, per say. I just like one whole guy!"

Tony giggles and gets up to play some more Guitar Hero. We finally enter the scene and Bruce shifts on the couch. I smile over at him and he grimaces. The rest of the video plays out and soon, everyone is staring at Tony and Bruce. Bruce ducks his head and Tony gulps.

"Well?! Are you two going to do something?!" Darcy asks, her body snuggled against the super-soldier.

Tony looks over at Bruce and says, "I did mean everything I said. Good, I hate sounding mushy."

Bruce grins, "So you do like me?"

Tony rolls his eyes, "Yes. Did you not just watch that video? I should delete it! It's so embarrassing. JARVIS, delete the video."

"But send everyone a copy, please!" Darcy announces, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

Tony scowls over at her and returns to looking at Bruce, "So, will you go to this charity thing with me?"

"Only if you take me out on that date you were talking about." Bruce says coyly.

Tony smiles widely and Darcy butts in before anyone can say anything.

"Now kiss!" she giggles as she stretches her arms out towards the both of their heads.


	11. With no sense of personal space Part 1

9) …with no sense of personal space (Part 1)

"Come on, John!" Sherlock hisses as I look out the window for the fifth time.

"Sorry! It's not my fault I want to make sure no one saw us!"

Sherlock walks up the stairs to the room where the woman was murdered. We find it taped off and dried blood is still on the floor. Sherlock leans down and looks at the scene carefully. I hear the door open and I stand still.

"Sherlock!" I whisper harshly.

"It's not the homeowner. Hurry, in here!"

He pulls me into the closet adjacent to the room and I peek through the crack, Sherlock flushed behind me.

"So, are you sure he's going to come back?" I see a tall American, judging by his voice, man with brown hair barely above his shoulders."

"Yeah. We'll have to stop him before he gets hungry again. We should check the rest of the house for him." The other man has short, David Beckham-like hair and is American as well.

I see the long-haired man nod to the closet and I cling onto Sherlock. The short-haired man walks slowly up to the door and I see a shotgun in his hand. He opens the door and I find myself face to face with the muzzle. I lift my hands to show I'm unarmed and Sherlock does the same, albeit calmly.

"Who are you two?"

"I'm John Watson and this is Sherlock Holmes. We were just here to examine the crime scene."

The long-haired man twitches his head to the side, "Why?"

"Sherlock is a consulting detective. He was trying to figure out why the woman died when you two came in."

The long-haired man lowers his gun as does his companion.

"You guys shouldn't be here."

"And why not?" Sherlock asks haughtily.

The short-haired man gives him a look and rolls his eyes, "This is a dangerous place to be."

"I know that. Crime scenes usually are. Now can you leave? I'm trying to solve the case."

The short-haired man scoffs and I narrow my eyes.

"You don't understand. This isn't a normal crime scene." the long-haired man answers.

"What do you mean? It's just a murder." Sherlock says impatiently.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try us." I answer, my arms crossed in defiance.

The short-haired man shrugs, "My name's Dean Winchester. This here's my brother Sam. We hunt monsters."

I laugh and Sherlock glares at the two.

"You two are a riot. Now can you leave? Sherlock needs to figure this out. We have stuff to do."

Dean frowns and signals at Sam to do something.

"We weren't lying. It wasn't a normal murder. The woman was eaten alive by her son who happens to be a Rugaru. Rugaru's are creature that, at a certain age, turn into feral, cannibalistic monsters." Sam says.

Sherlock ignores the man and walks over to the tape. He crouches again and begins to search for clues.

"Why should we believe you?" I question.

"It's true. Now, you two need to leave. The Rugaru could come back any minute. He's going to come back to where he thinks is safest, which is his home."

"Why should we leave? We were here firs-" I jump back and pull Sherlock with me when I spot a sickly-looking man in the doorway, dried blood on his face. Sam turns and gets shoved back by the man. Sam's head slams onto the floor and he blacks out. Dean turns in surprise and pulls out a small flame thrower. The man runs quickly, almost inhumanly, and slaps Dean away. Dean hit's the door with a crack and it looks like he's knocked out. The man stalks up to us and I yank Sherlock behind me, pinning him to the window. The man licks his lips and I see he has pure black eyes. I punch him and the man grabs my fist in his hand. He squeezes it and I feel the bones in my hand break. I yell in pain and Sherlock squirms behind me, trying to defend me. I see movement and all of a sudden, the man is on fire. He screams in horror but the screams die down. I turn to find Dean, blood running down his head. He looks at us and smirks.

"Told you the Rugaru would come back."

Sherlock pushes me away and examines my hand.

"All the bones are broken. We'll have to go to the A&E right now."

"What was that?" I ignore Sherlock and turn to Dean, who's rousing Sam.

"Rugaru. Come with us. We'll explain everything on the way to Mia's house."

"John, we need someone to look at your hand or it'll set wrong. You're a doctor! You should know this!" Sherlock comments worriedly.

I sigh and turn to tell Sam and Dean when I spot another man behind Dean.

"You guys!" I yell and Dean turns with his flamethrower pointed at the man.

"Goddamn it Cas! You scared us!" Dean growls.

"I am sorry. Hermione only wanted me to tell you two that dinner will be ready in thirty minutes."

"What? Who is that and how do you two know Hermione?" I ask.

"This is our friend Cas. He's an angel. Hermione is our cousin."

"Well, second cousin." Sam says, "Hey, Cas, do you think you can fix John's hand? On second thought, can you fix all of us? I think I heard Dean's shoulder crack and I might have a concussion."

Cas nods and presses his hand onto my forehead. Almost immediately, my hand is okay. I flex it a bit and gape as the man touches the other two men. Dean flinches slightly and I blink in disbelief. Sherlock looks unperturbed but I notice some shock in his eyes. Sam smirks and says, "Well? Are you two coming or not?"


	12. With no sense of personal space Part 2

(Part 2)

We slide out of the rental car and I smile at the familiar house. We head to the door and Dean unlocks the door. I hear a baby crying in the distance and a man singing.

"Hey, Mia! We're back and we've brought some friends!" Sam yells and I see Hermione's head pop out from behind a door.

"Sherlock! John! How are you two?" she greets.

"Pretty good. Got picked up by these three while Sherlock and I were checking out a crime scene.

"I saved their asses!" Dean says and I smile.

Hermione grins and motions for us to follow her. We head into a kitchen and I spot a tall man. He has light blonde hair and grey eyes. He nods over at Dean, Sam and Cass and smirks at us.

"Hello. My name's Draco. Friends of Hermione?"

"Love, this is John and his boyfriend Sherlock. The two I told you about."

Draco smiles in recognition and tries to shake our hands with Scorpius in the other arm. I rub the baby's curly blonde hair and he coos.

"Want to hold him?"

I shrug and hold my arms out. He starts crying after Draco leaves to help Hermione and I try to rock him to sleep. Scorpius is still sobbing and I hand him to Sherlock. Sherlock's eyebrows raise and he shakes his head. I place the baby in his arms and Sherlock's hands curl instinctively around the small bundle. I smile at the sight of him looking down unblinkingly at the child. Scorpius looks up at Sherlock with interest and stops crying. They stare at each other and I smile longingly.

"So, you guys hungry?" Hermione asks, surprised at seeing Sherlock managing with Scorpius.

"Starving!" Dean moans and Sam rolls his eyes. Cas watches Dean with an intent look on his face and I see Dean shift awkwardly. Cas opens his mouth to say something but Dean pretends not to notice.

"Mia, do you need any help?"

"Yeah, sure Dean. Thank you!"

The two leave the room and Draco heads off to do something. Sam slumps into a chair and Sherlock copies, the baby still watching his face. Cas stands uncomfortably in the middle of the wide kitchen. Sam turns to the two of us and smacks his lips together.

"So, you two want to know about monsters and our job right?"

We nod and Sherlock listens, enthralled.

~o~o~

Two hours pass, we've finished eating and Sam is still explaining their life. Dean is listening and inputs every once in a while.

"…..so that's why we're here." Sam finishes and Sherlock looks at me. I chuckle and whistle.

"Your lives seem terrible!" I mutter and Dean laughs.

"We're used to it. We hate it but it's what we grew up with."

"Where's Cas?" Sam asks, looking around for the absent angel.

Dean shrugs and looks down at the ground, "Don't know. Well, I'm going to turn in. I'll call you if we need any help."

He stands and finds himself face-to-face with Cas.

"Cas! Personal space!"

"I don't give a damn about personal space. Now, stop ignoring me." the angel growls and he gives Dean a slow kiss. Dean pulls back in shock and his cheeks are flushed.

"What the hell?"

"I am sorry. About pretending to die. It was necessary so the angels wouldn't come after you. I feel a connection with you and I decided to act on it. I like you, Dean, but more than just a protector. I feel tied to you. I do understand if I am not what you want. I will leave if you want me to."

Dean licks his lips and goes to kiss Cas. They pull back and Dean rests his head on Cas' shoulder.

"Damn it Cas. You can't just kiss me and expect me to want you to leave."

Cas gives Dean a smile and then turns serious.

"You do realize I won't ever be entirely normal. I am an angel of the lord and I can be gone for long periods of time. Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yeah. Don't worry, Cas. I can manage." Dean smiles and Cas nods.

"Finally!" Sam sighs, rolling his eyes, "You guys have been acting immature lately. Now, at least I know Dean won't be bitching about Cas anymore."

"Hey! I don't bitch, bitch." Dean says.

Cas smiles at the brothers and tentatively touches Dean's shoulder.

"I have to leave right now. I should be back by Wednesday." Cas says regretfully and Dean nods in acceptance.

"Great. Now I'm going to have to listen to Dean go on and on about how hot his boyfriend is." Sam complains and Dean punches his arm. He kisses the angel and Cas disappears.

"Well, I don't feel too surprised what with wizards and aliens and superheroes. " Sherlock comments, juggling Scorpius to his other arm.

Dean and Sam chuckle and I run my hand through his hair.

"Let's go home, yeah?"

"Okay." Sherlock agrees.

I thank Hermione and the brothers and I force Sherlock to do the same. 'Mione calls us a cab and on the way home, I lay my head on Sherlock's chest. He smells like baby but his natural scent underlies it.

"You want a child one day." Sherlock comments.

"I do sometimes but if not, I'm fine with just you forever."

Sherlock sighs and looks out the window.

"A child would be nice. It was… odd holding Scorpius. I was frightened I would drop him or he would break."

"That's what babies do. They make you feel more cautious and bring out the paternal side of you, if you have one."

"How would we go about getting a child? Adoption? Surrogate?"

"I think a surrogate would be better because that way, the child looks like someone in the family."

"But to have a child, we would need someone willing to bear the child and we would have to get married."

"Well, yes but not straightaway. So you do want a child in the future?" I ask, happy at the thought of a child with Sherlock's curls and smile.

"I think I do. John?"

"Yes Sherlock?"

"Will you marry me?"

I sit up and smile widely at him, "Of course."

"Good" is his reply as he leans to kiss me.


	13. In love

10) …in love

I squirm in my seat as I watch Sherlock bend over the table. It's been four months since the last time we made love. We were on a major case, we went to America again to help find Bruce who had accidentally gone Hulk and hurt Tony (He had gone to Brazil and Sherlock found him in Texas), we went to Mycroft and Greg's civil marriage (upon Greg's request, of course), and we recently celebrated Mrs. Hudson's birthday. I lick my lips in want as I watch Sherlock wiggle his bum in the air, almost tauntingly.

"Sherlock? Come to bed with me?"

I receive no response and I frown.

"Sherlock. Take a break from that. It'll be there in the morning and I want you."

He gives a hum and I huff.

"Fine. I'm going out."

I grab my coat and stomp out of the flat. Stupid Sherlock and his stupid experiments. We're engaged, for god's sake. The least he could do is give me an occasional long kiss! I walk down the street and see signs promoting Valentine's Day. I grumble at the too sweet posters and go into the nearest pub. It's empty except for a few lonely people. How was it Sherlock was more romantic when trying to woo me? I sigh and ask the bartender for a scotch. He agrees and sets it down before me.

"Lady problems, eh?"

"Man problems actually."

"Ah. What, he's not the romantic type?" the barman asks, his voice gruff.

"Not really. He'd rather work than cuddle up. I knew that when I agreed to date him two years ago but we haven't properly kissed in at least four months!" I mutter. The barman looks at me incredulously and I do the same back.

"That's terrible mate! I mean, it's Saint Val's day tomorrow! You sure he's not cheating on you? I'm not saying he would."

I shake my head, "He's not. Believe me. He just gets caught up in his work. He was asexual until he met me, practically."

The man nods, "Well, you should try to do something tomorrow. Buy him something."

"He says he has no need for impractical things. He's a bit of a prat sometimes."

"Sometimes?" the man laughs from his belly and I join in.

"I don't know. We've been engaged for a while. Sometimes, I wish he would remember me but I'm used to it. I guess I shouldn't be complaining. What about you? Have a missus at home?"

"No, my wife and I divorced years ago. I'm still searching for someone." he sighs.

"My mum's single. My dad died before I entered the war."

"Don't you feel weird, setting your mum up with a random barman?"

"Yeah, but you seem like a nice bloke and besides, my boyfriend could probably tell me your life's stories in three minutes so I'd know if you weren't a good man."

He laughs, "Well then. My name's Daniel, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Daniel. I'm John. Maybe I'll bring my mum here next time she visits."

"Be sure that you do, Johnny boy. Have a nice night and hopefully your boyfriend rouses from that loop he's in."

I salute him and pay for my scotch. I head back home and sigh. How do you get your boyfriend, a partial sociopath, to remember you have needs too? Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

~o~o~

"Sherlock?"

No answer. I head downstairs and find the kitchen empty. I sigh and make a cup of tea.

I guess I'm spending Valentine's day alone, just like always. Vincent mewls and makes a bed on Gladstone's large stomach. The dog looks sleepily at the cat and plops his head down. I chuckle and take out my phone to text Sherlock.

Sent at 10:38

Happy Valentine's day.

Where are you?

I don't receive a text and I frown. Sherlock usually texts back straightaway. I text Greg instead.

**Sent at 10:40  
Hey, Greg.  
Do you happen to know where Sherlock is?  
Sorry to bother you.**

**Received at 10:42 from Greg  
Hello John. Gregory is a bit busy at the moment.  
Neither I nor Gregory have called for him.  
MH**

I shiver in disgust at the thought of what is keeping Greg 'busy' and head downstairs to ask Mrs. Hudson.

"Hello Mrs. Hudson. Happy Valentine's Day! Do you happen to know where Sherlock is?"

"Oh, hello dearie. No, I have no idea. Wait here, I have a plate of cookies for you. I'm going out later on a date with Mr. Sayley down the street. Have a wonderful day, John."

I smile and take the plate back upstairs. I text Sherlock one more time.

**Sent at 10:56  
Sherlock.  
Can you text me back please?  
Just want to make sure you're still alive.  
I love you.**

I receive no text back and I sigh. Leave it to Sherlock to ignore me on what's supposed to be the most romantic day of the year. I spend the rest of the day moping, put out that Sherlock didn't at least text me back. I decide on taking a bath. I warm the water and strip down. I sink in and my eyes roll back as the knots in my back are caressed by the steamy water. I scrub myself and soon enough, I start to prune. I get out and change into my sleeping clothes. I head downstairs and find Sherlock lying on the couch, seemingly asleep.

"Where were you?" I ask him.

"Hermione's house."

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" I ask, happy he even answered my question the first time.

"I was busy planning what to do or get you for today and Hermione was helping."

"Oh. Would you like some tea?"

"No."

"Well, I'm having some."

I leave the living room and Sherlock follows after me.

"Why aren't you mad?" he asks, surprised and a bit guilty.

"I didn't exactly expect you to get me anything. Holidays just aren't your forte so why would today be any different?"

"Because I love you and I should do something to show it."

I smile and look over at Sherlock.

"That was a rhetorical question. And I've never properly heard you say I love you."

"I whisper it to you when you're sleeping."

I smile softly, "That's sweet."

"Don't you want to know what I got you? Well, what I did for you?"

I frown, "You didn't get a tattoo did you?"

"I'm not an idiot!"

"Sherlock! Not all people with tattoos are idiots! What did you do then?"

"I took Veritaserum."

"What?"

"A truth telling potion. I'm under it right now. It's the same one I used on the Avengers last year."

I look at him in shock and I hear the kettle whistling. I pour myself and Sherlock a cup and prepare the two. I take them into the living room and set them on the table. Sherlock reaches for his and I drink mine.

"Why?"

"I thought it would be a nice gift for you to know exactly what I'm thinking than having to guess."

I smile, "That's really nice, Sherlock."

He smiles at me and I cuddle up to him.

"You can ask me whatever you want and I'll be obliged to answer. You only have five hours seeing as I took a small dose."

"Anything?"

"Yes."

I set my mug down and turn to him.

"Do you love me?"

"Don't be absurd! Of, course I love you." he scoffs.

"Why don't you get along with Mycroft?"

He scowls at me, "Out of all the questions you are capable of asking and you choose to ask me about Mycroft?! I don't get along with him because as we got older, he moved out and had a new life without me. I looked up to him and there he was, forgetting his family for bigger and better things. Our relationship deteriorated afterwards and I've always resented that he is smarter than me."

I pat his shoulder and he sulks.

"Do you love him?"

"Honestly, John!"

"That's the last one. I promise!"

"For all intents and purposes, yes. He is my brother and we were close for two or three years. Now please! Ask better questions."

I grin fondly at him and lick my lip.

"Why did you jump? I mean, I already know but I want to hear you explain under the potion." I say hesitantly.

Sherlock looks at me with sadness in his eyes, "I had to. You know this. Moriarty was going to kill you, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson. So I jumped. Well, fake jumped. I couldn't lose you. Not then, anyways. I didn't want to."

I struggle to keep calm but I break and hug him tightly. He hugs back and I lean in to kiss him. He kisses back and it turns fervent. I pin him to the couch and he looks up at me with lust filled eyes.

"We're going to do this my way." I snarl as I give his bottom lip a sharp bite.

He quivers and I take that as a yes. I pull him upstairs to my room and I push him down in the middle of my bed.

"Strip. Do you like this?"

"Yes. Very much."

"Good. Because this will go on all night."

Sherlock's breaths come out shallow and he swallows.

"Oh, yes."

~o~o~

I wake up to Sherlock's hair tickling my chin. I hug him closer and he presses a kiss to my chest. I run my hands through his hair and he mumbles in happiness. We stay like that for a while but I get up to take a shower. Sherlock follows and I turn the water on. After the shower's done, we towel each other off and I wipe the fog off of the mirror. Sherlock examines his body and finds dark love marks decorating his neck and chest. He has long fingernail scratches down his back. There are red marks on his wrists from being tied up and he massages, what should be, his sore throat.

"What brought on yesterday?" he asks, now examining his still pink arse.

"Never ignore a madman in love, Sherlock." I grin and he rolls his eyes.


End file.
